Handling An End
by Written Fire
Summary: Happy endings don't always happen.


_So, here's another story._

_I got the idea while on vacation this summer, from a movie that I really like._

_It's Called 'Catch and Release'._

**_Disclaimer: Only the idea is mine; the characters belong to the lovely Ms. Rowling._**

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><p>Harry stared down at the grave, the rain making small puddles on his glasses. He was alone, everyone having left already to the Burrow to enjoy the food Mrs. Weasley had prepared, some going so they wouldn't have to grieve alone. They had all passed him on their way, giving a hug or shaking his hand as they expressed their sincere apologies. Harry had mumbled his thanks, staring bleakly ahead as he fought the urge to shout, to yell. If he heard someone say 'sorry' one more time, he didn't think he could contain himself. He didn't know what he would do, but he'd wager it wouldn't be pretty.<p>

Twisting the ring on his finger, Harry blinked away the sudden tears that sprang to his eyes. They had only been married a month when they had gotten the news, and had been ecstatic. While they both wished that they could have enjoyed being a newlywed couple longer, neither one was terribly upset about adding a new addition to their new family.

When they had told Molly, she'd burst into tears. They were happy ones, she exclaimed, as she then proceeded to hug the stuffing out of them both. Arthur was the one who had managed to free them, saying he wanted to hug the new mother, his baby girl. That only made Molly cry harder before she decided that they both needed to be fed and ran to the kitchen, leaving the rest of the family to congratulate the happy couple.

The next couple of months passed in a happy blur, full of doctor's visits and house shopping, looking happily at other babies and debating on whether they were having a girl or a boy. Harry thought it was a boy, while Ginny was stubbornly refusing to believe it was anything bit a girl. Harry thought that was because she was the only girl among six older brothers, but wisely kept that thought to himself. His wife could be quite touchy on that subject. Well, if he was going to be fair, she could be quite touchy on _any _subject, at any time. Hormones were a bitch to deal with.

For the nine months she carried their child, things were great. They found and bought a home, and were prepared to move in once she had the baby. They decorated the nursery with care, their love for the unborn child clearly evident in all that they did. It was a joyous, love filled time.

But, the good times don't always last.

Harry knew that, had known that all his life.

You don't grow up as the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, without learning that your life won't always be sunshine and rainbows. You will, despite how much you wish it were not true, have dark times in your life.

As the saying goes, Life's a bitch.

But Harry had honestly thought that the worst times were behind him. He had honestly thought that he would not have to deal with this anguish until he was old and gray.

He'd thought wrong.

Harry remembered the day her water broke. Doubted he would ever forget it. They'd been at home, sitting on the couch and looking around at their apartment, reminiscing about all the good times they'd had in it. Most everything was boxed up packed and ready to go when the time was right. Ginny was due in the next couple of weeks, and was feeling rather impatient. Harry had heard her complain more than once that she just wanted the dang kid _out _already. He'd make the mistake of laughing the first time he heard her say so. Even nine months pregnant, his little wife could be quite scary.

Harry had just told her a story about her brother, Ron, watching with a smile as she threw back her head and laughed, her hands resting on top of her large, round belly. She had been in the middle of the laugh when it happened: her water broke. It had shocked them both, and it took her having her first contraction to snap them out of it. Harry remembered how badly he had freaked out, trying to figure out what to do, and how calm Ginny had been in comparison. She was the one who managed to get them to St. Mungo's, laughing the whole time about the fact that the big time war hero lost his head when it came to having a baby. What had finally calmed him was when Molly and Hermione had walked in. Molly had gone immediately to her daughter and Hermione to her best friend. Her calm had washed over him, and after a minute in her presence Harry was able to be by his wives side without feeling the overwhelming need to bolt, his nerves had been so bad.

Harry had sat with Ginny the whole time, holding her hand and keeping her happy when the contractions hit. When the doctor had announced they Ginny was ready he was prepared, excited to meet his first born.

What happened, though, he was far from prepared for.

After several minutes of unsuccessful pushing, Harry had seen the doctors' exchange worried looks. He had quickly glanced down at Ginny to see if she had noticed, and was relieved to find that she had her eyes closed in exhaustion.

His relief was short lived.

When the doctors told her to push again, they got no reaction. When Harry had tried, he got no reaction. Panicked, the doctors had sent Harry out of the room while they tried to figure out was wrong. Harry had stood in the hall, shouting and banging on the door, trying to get back in. He had shouted himself hoarse before the door opened for him.

Upon entering, Harry had wished he had stayed in the hall.

The next few hours passed in a blur; his mind barely grasping what he was told. One fact stuck to his mind, repeating itself in an endless cycle.

Ginny was dead.

The doctors had explained what happened, but in his funk Harry did not truly listen to their explanation. All he could think was: She's dead. She's dead.

Telling the family, who were sitting in the waiting room, that the only Weasley daughter had died, but her child lived, was gruesome. Shocked silence had met his statement, delivered in a lifeless voice, before Molly Weasley's anguished cry shattered it, setting off a chain reaction.

Harry barely remembered what happened next; he had had to go talk to the doctors and sign papers, name his motherless child. It was dawn before he was able to leave, taking his son James with him, going home to an empty house, a place that now held too many painful memories.

It had taken them all of a week to plan the funeral.

Harry was drawn from his musings by a soft voice coming from behind him, the speaker stopping beside him.

"James is with Molly now." the voice had a dreamy quality to it. Harry recognized it immediately. "He was asleep. She said to ask that you not stay out to long; she's worried you'll catch a cold."

Harry didn't answer, just continued to stand there staring in silence.

A few seconds later he heard her quietly mutter a spell; he did not recognize it, but felt the effects a split second later. He then blinked in shock when her wand suddenly appeared in front of his face, blinking again, in surprise this time, when the puddles disappeared. He heard her mutter again, and recognized it as the spell Hermione had used on him during that rainy Quidditch game third year. He said a thank you; she said a welcome, and those were the only things said for the following next two hours.

"I don't know if I'm ready to raise a child on my own." Harry admitted to her quietly, speaking the thought that kept running through his head.

"You're raising Teddy, aren't you?" she asked, tilting her head to the side.

"That's different, though. I don't have him all the time...and she was always there to help. Always." his voice broke, and he was glad when she made no mention of it.

"You're not going to be alone, Harry." she turned her head and looked at him, waiting until he copied her action before finishing. "The nargles can wait...I'll be around if you need me." Harry stared uncomprehendingly at her for a few moments, before realizing what she had said. When his brain processed what it was, he felt a warm rush of affection towards her. He did not understand why her offer to help meant more than the others did, and did not want to; he was just going to enjoy the feeling it brought him. Any feeling besides the heartache was nice to feel. Harry reached over and grabbed Luna's hand, squeezing it to show his appreciation as he looked back at Ginny's grave.

"Do you think she will have food out still?" he asked her a short while later, looking back at her.

"It's Molly." she said as way of answer, causing Harry to laugh for the first time since his wife's death. It didn't last long, but for that brief moment he almost felt normal again. Pulling out his wand Harry performed the same spell Hermione had on that Christmas years ago, gently setting the flowers on the grave before stepping back and grabbing hold of Luna's hand again.

"I love you Ginny." He said softly, giving her grave one last glance before closing his eyes and apparating Luna and himself away, heading to the Burrow where a worried Molly would force food on him, and a black haired baby with his mothers eyes will capture his heart all over again.

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><p><em>Well, I hope you liked it.<em>

_Reviews are always appreciated._


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